


make your dream reality

by punk_rock_yuppie



Category: Buzzfeed The Try Guys (Web Series)
Genre: Bathroom Sex, Eugene Wears a Skirt, Fantasizing, M/M, Masturbation, PWP, Public Sex, Sexual Tension, Spanking, handjobs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-29
Updated: 2019-03-29
Packaged: 2019-12-26 02:02:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,888
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18273542
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/punk_rock_yuppie/pseuds/punk_rock_yuppie
Summary: It all starts because Eugene slaps Zach's ass.





	make your dream reality

**Author's Note:**

> some random zagene! yet another old wip that I dug up. just some random smut, written forever ago
> 
> big thanks to hannah for beta'ing! 
> 
> enjoy!

Really, Zach is pretty sure Eugene isn’t even thinking when he does it.

It’s just something that happens.

One second all four of them are joking around and laughing—the next, Eugene’s palm is hitting Zach’s ass with a _slap_. Zach yelps quietly and stumbles where he stands. A rush of heat floods Zach’s body and his cock immediately starts to swell in his jeans. He looks over his shoulder but Eugene is already looking away, laughing about something new with Keith.

Zach swallows uneasily and tries to subtly press a hand against his groin, willing his cock to go down.

It doesn’t.

Zach excuses himself quietly and Ned waves him off with a kind, distracted grin. Zach trips over his own feet in his haste to make it to the bathroom inside. He nearly trips over Bean and he slams the bathroom door a little harder than really necessary. Zach fumbles with the lock and braces his back against the door.

He chances a look at himself in the mirror; he’s flushed high in the cheeks and his dick is starting to tent his jeans obscenely. He could try splashing some cold water on his face but something tells him it won’t work. He looks away from the mirror with a breathless, frustrated noise.

He shoves his hand down the front of his pants and grips his cock over his boxers. He awkwardly works open the button and zipper to give his hand more room so that he can stroke himself properly. His fist glides from root to tip and he gathers precome in his palm to slick the way.

He drops his head back against the door with a _thud_ and a moan muffled by biting his bottom lip. His hips push into his fist and his eyes flutter shut; a fantasy comes to life behind his eyelids.

Here, in this bathroom, he’s cornered by Eugene. He’s pressed up against the counter and the marble edge is digging into his hips. Eugene is a long, warm weight behind him. Zach’s cock bobs and sways each time Eugene brings his hand down in a hard _slap_ against Zach’s bare ass. Every minute shift has Eugene’s cock trailing sticky precome over Zach’s abused skin, cool and wet on hot and dry.

Zach’s shaking where he stands, in the fantasy and in real life. He’s already hurtling toward the edge; this isn’t exactly a new line of thought for him. It’s hardly a new fantasy but it’s the first time he has something real to cling to: the way Eugene’s hand felt against his ass, even through layers of denim and cotton.

In the fantasy, Eugene presses in close and spreads his cheeks and slides into him—miraculously prepped and ready, the power of fantasies. He holds Zach by the cheeks and his grip is tight and painful on tender skin. Zach shudders and moans as Eugene sinks in to the hilt.

Zach’s knees shake as he comes, catching it all in his hand. His ass throbs with the phantom feeling of Eugene’s hand, his hole clenching around nothing when all he can think of is Eugene’s dick. Zach swallows his moans and comes out with a hiccup instead, innocuous, even as his own cock continues to twitch and spill into his palm.

Eventually his orgasm fades and he catches his breath. He washes his hands in the sink and does up his jeans again. He takes a moment to smooth his ruffled hair, splashes cold water on his face to try and dull the burning blush. It’s not _too_ obvious, what he’s been doing; if he’s lucky, everyone will think he just has a fever or something.

Zach nods to himself and unlocks the bathroom door. He pulls it open to find Eugene waiting on the other side. Eugene raises an eyebrow at him.

“You done?” Eugene asks.

Zach nods and hurries out of the way as Eugene brushes by him into the bathroom. Belatedly, Zach realizes he didn’t spray the room or open the window, so it probably smells like come, and Eugene’s nose is scrunching up and his brow is furrowing and—

“Did they get new plug-ins?” Eugene asks.

“Wh-what?”

“New plug-ins. It smells different in here.”

Zach blinks. “No clue,” he manages to cough out.

Eugene shrugs and shuts the door in Zach’s face.

That was _close_.

 

 

 

Zach puts it mostly out of his mind. _Mostly_. He doesn’t think about it when they’re filming (mostly) and he doesn’t think about it when they’re out for lunch or dinner or drinks (mostly). He _definitely_ thinks about it when he’s jerking off, but that’s hardly anything new. He just does his best to _not_ think about it whenever he’s remotely close to Eugene.

It doesn’t totally work. Especially not when Eugene slaps his ass _again_.

 

 

They’re out dancing. At a club, or some bar, Zach’s not really sure, cuz he’s _drunk_.

What he _is_ sure of is that Eugene’s hand has hardly left Zach’s ass _all fucking night_. It started when they first entered the club and Eugene had slapped his ass in a ‘giddy-up’ sort of gesture; then it happened when Zach offered to go buy the first round; then again, when Zach excused himself to the restroom. After that, Eugene had started sticking close, his hand resting either at the small of Zach’s back or at the top curve of his ass.

Needless to say, it’s _distracting_.

Zach’s drunk enough to _want_ to say something, but still feels too tongue-tied to bite the bullet. Eugene just looks so _good_. A shimmery sort of crop top, holographic and color-changing in the blacklight with a long flowing skirt, heeled boots that have him towering over Zach even moreso than usual. Eugene went light on the makeup this time, and that only makes it worse—because Eugene is inhumanly gorgeous on days when he’s got no makeup.

This, _this?_ Is torture.

“Torture, huh?” Eugene murmurs right in Zach’s ear. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

Zach looks up at Eugene in horror, and feels distinctly like a mouse caught in a trap laid by the world’s sexiest cat.

Eugene’s nose wrinkles. “Not as great of a compliment,” he says, and that’s when Zach realizes he’s speaking aloud. “Yeah, you have been.” Eugene grins, all teeth. “I _knew_ their bathroom smelled different that day.”

“Eugene,” Zach says shakily, a meek attempt at a warning.

“You jerked off, didn’t you?” To accent his point, Eugene squeezes Zach’s ass and laughs at his responding squeak. “I fucking knew it.”

“Eugene,” Zach tries again.

“C’mon.” Eugene knocks back the rest of his drink and then the rest of Zach’s before curling his arm around Zach’s waist and dragging him away from their table. As they blend into the club’s crowd, Zach can hear their friends hooting and hollering at them, but it all fades into the background eventually, especially once they hit the men’s room on the other side of the building.

They stumble into the dinky room and Eugene shoves him toward a stall. The music is muffled in here and it’s surprisingly clean, which is why Zach doesn’t really mind when Eugene shoves him up against the stall door and starts to kiss him.

Zach squeaks again into the kiss but obediently reaches up to wind his arms around Eugene’s neck. Eugene kisses like he wants to devour him, consume him, and Zach’s head is swimming between that and the alcohol. He never anticipated this night would end with Eugene grinding lazily against him in a club bathroom, but he’s not complaining.

“You’re thinking too loud,” Eugene hisses as the kiss breaks with a wet, sloppy sound. He reaches between them to undo Zach’s jeans. “I’m going to get us off, we’re going to have a good time with our friends, and then you’re going to come home with me and I’m gonna spank you till you cry, okay?”

Zach practically chokes on his tongue as he watches Eugene’s hand near his dick. Eugene shimmies his skirt down his hips and exposes his own erection. “No underwear?” Zach asks weekly.

“Easy access,” Eugene says with a wink. He wraps his enormous hand around both their cocks and starts to stroke. They’re leaking enough precome that the glide is smooth, just a hint of enough friction to make it interesting. It wouldn’t matter, regardless: Zach is too keyed up to last, and he hopes the same is true of Eugene so he doesn’t look like a total loser.

Zach uses his arms around Eugene’s shoulders to yank him in for another kiss. Their teeth clack together at first but Eugene guides them into something better, perfect. It’s probing and deep and Zach can’t help but melt under the onslaught. He’s hardly a virgin but Eugene is playing him like a fucking concert pianist and Zach’s the baby grand piano, or, or _something_.

“Thinking too hard,” Eugene growls again as he bites at Zach’s lip. “Focus on me.”

“That’s the problem,” Zach starts to say although his words get lost in another kiss. He hitches a leg around Eugene’s thigh and humps into Eugene’s fist, chasing friction and pleasure. Eugene’s arm around his waist slips to cup Zach’s ass and grip one cheek tight enough to bruise.

Zach shudders and moans loud enough that it reverberates off the tiled walls. “Fuck, Eugene!”

“You gonna come, Zach? So soon?”

Zach whines and bucks his hips again, nodding.

“Me too,” Eugene growls. He kisses Zach again, a gentler one, and Zach whines into it. Eugene presses closer, enough that the stall door creaks under their combined weight. They pant into each other’s mouths and Eugene’s hand around them loses its rhythm.

Zach still comes first, arching his back and slamming his head against the door, but he’s gratified when Eugene comes shortly after him. Their grunts and groans echo off the walls and Eugene hisses as the slick sounds of him jerking them off turn stickier.

“Ugh,” Eugene mutters as he looks at his come-splattered hand. He steps back and leaves Zach on shaky legs as he grabs a wad of toilet paper to clean off his hand.

Zach catches his breath and then catches another wad of paper to wipe himself off before tucking himself back into his jeans. He watches Eugene clean himself up before they flush all the toilet paper and slip as nonchalantly as possible out of the stall.

There’s a man standing at the urinal, but he seems too drunk to notice them.

He and Eugene both wash and dry their hands and then slide back into the club, out of the bathroom; almost immediately, Eugene’s arm finds Zach’s waist.

“Think you can contain yourself until we get home?” Eugene whispers in his ear.

“Guess we’ll find out,” Zach retorts, imbued suddenly with confidence, like Eugene rubbing off on him really _rubbed off on him_. He snorts to himself and ignores Eugene’s playfully disdainful look. They’re almost back to the table when Eugene’s hand slips lower and cups Zach’s ass.

He’s proud of himself for not squeaking, even when Eugene squeezes. When he side-eyes Eugene, he can see the glint of challenge in his eyes.

Zach leans in a little closer, as Eugene murmurs back, “Looking forward to it.”


End file.
